


A Raptor In Heat

by alienboyfriend (MarriedHeathens)



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Beast Wars
Genre: Dinobot In Heat, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Other, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, bottom Dinobot, egg laying mentioned but not shown, feathery Dinobot, top Rattrap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-27 07:57:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12577220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarriedHeathens/pseuds/alienboyfriend
Summary: Dinobot is a special sort of carrier known as a broodmech, mechs who go into a mind-altering heat every three or so months so long as they aren't caring for brood. He's been taking inhibitors to keep the heat at bay ever since the loss of his mates years ago, but now, in the middle of the Beast Wars, living among Maximals that don't know of his condition, he's run out of the only thing that can help him.He's decided to isolate himself to spare his teammates the trouble of dealing with him and to keep them from finding out, but in the middle of his heat, a certain rodent stumbles upon him...





	A Raptor In Heat

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place in a universe Slightly To The Left of the proper Beast Wars one, where the characters were always some form of beastmech and Dinobot was always a raptor, hence him having a pack in the past. Also, he has feathers! And a cockatoo-like crest in beast mode. Everything else stays otherwise the same as canon.
> 
> This is literally a shameless excuse for me to write hardcore smut for an OTP that doesn't have nearly enough content. Special thanks to my fiancee, IcedCoffeeCat, for helping me work out some of the bits in the middle and Rattrap's characterization as a whole!

It started with the mood swings.

Dinobot was lucky in that he had a reputation for irritability; the others on base didn't notice a change in him at all. Only he knew what was going on inside his processor, where actions that would usually only warrant annoyance ignited genuine rage in him. When it wasn't that, it was bouts of melancholy, memories of mechs long lost brought up by the most mundane things. He'd almost cried several times in a week, which was entirely unlike himself.

It was… **_distressing_**. That was putting it as mildly as possible.

The next thing he noticed was the way the Maximals begun to treat him. Everyone, suddenly, seemed to be trying to win his favor, when most of them hadn't even begun to care before. Primal had become somehow politer, almost gentle with him. Silverbolt kept trying to take his shifts and do his duties for him as if he'd be happy about that, and Dinobot had had to snap at him several times to get him to stop. Cheetor had gotten _clingy_ . Rhinox-- Rhinox, of all mechs, had brought him **_gifts_** _!_ A bouquet or organic flowers and a datapad of poetry he’d found on board, no less! The absurdity of it had Dinobot reeling and on edge, the paranoid part of him thinking his teammates were up to something.

Rattrap was the only one that hadn't changed. Dinobot supposed if _everyone_ on board was affected by whatever in the Pit was happening, that would be one thing, but Rattrap was still as sarcastic and biting as ever, even making fun of the others for the way they were acting, and that was what took this from absurd to _suspicious_. He didn't know what it could mean -- if this was some sort of prank orchestrated by the rodent or something far more sinister.

But when he ran his weekly self-diagnostics, he got his answer.

Dinobot was meditating in his quarters, allowing everything to run when a gentle _ping_ broke him out of it. The warrior grumbled his indignation at being interrupted by his own systems, but called the alert forwards -- and jumped when he saw what exactly it was alerting him to.

**ALERT** :: _Heat cycle beginning soon! Three solar cycles until heat commences._ :)

Dinobot blinked in stunned silence. Then he jumped upwards, rushing to his storage and rummaging near-desperately though it. Slag, _slag_ , **_slag_** _!_ How had it snuck up on him like this? How had he forgotten it was getting this close, close enough the pheromones were already getting to his teammates’ processors? He supposed he had been on the inhibitors so long that it had just slipped his mind, but he'd never been so careless before. Primus, he'd gotten too **_comfortable_** , that was what this was. He'd let himself relax too much, and now, if he didn't find his medicine, he'd have the deal with the consequences.

There it was! The utahraptor dug from the bottom of his storage unit a small silver cylinder, his feathers ruffling and his shoulders slumping with relief as he did so. Just one of these, and he'd be good for another few lunar cycles. Dinobot popped open the top, and…

It was empty. He was out of the ones he'd brought with him. The rest of them were back… back on the Predacon ship. Back in the quarters he'd kept there. How could he have forgotten?

Dread. It filled his tanks like so much soured energon, rolling and bubbling within him. A hiss escaped him, then a snarl, then a frustrated **_cry_**.

“Hey, Dinobot?”

The raptor whirled around just as Cheetor poked his head in the door, concern coloring his faceplate.

“You okay? You sounded like you'd been hurt, and--”

“Get out! GET OUT _GET OUT_ **_GET OUT!_ ** ” Dinobot all but **_hurled_ ** his empty medicine canister at the startled young bot, who yowled and slammed the door shut before it could hit him. Dinobot shuddered, snarling and hissing at nothing and no one, every feather on his frame now on end.

Of course Cheetor had been hanging around. The heat pheromones were pervasive, especially to younger mechs that couldn't control themselves so well, and even if carriers like Dinobot weren't so common among Maximal ranks, it would still have an effect. Primus, this explained everything. Prime’s softness, Silverbolt being somehow more insufferable than usual, the slagging **_poetry book_** …

Rattrap, as always, remained an enigma. But that no longer mattered. Dinobot had three solar cycles to prepare, and then he would spend his heat out in the wilds where no one could get to him. He didn’t owe the Maximals an explanation; they didn’t need to stick their olfactories in his business. He could leave for a bit, come back, and then deal with their distrust after the fact. It wasn’t like it was something he was unused to.

\-----

Two solar cycles later, and he could already feel the haze setting in.

Every mech on base had become something for his processor to dissect. Every mech was suddenly, to it, a potential mate, and his thoughts kept turning towards that, no matter how hard he tried to avoid it. He couldn’t escape it.

Dinobot watched every one of them in the control room, optics scrutinizing as they talked amongst one another. Rhinox was strong, and large. _Intimidating_. Good for watching over a nest, but ultimately too even-tempered to be a good defender. Primal was also strong, and in a position of power, no less, and well-respected; he could provide well for a brood, but he would make them a target for Megatron at the same time, and they wouldn’t be safe. Silverbolt was too annoying to even begin to consider, and Primus knows how ugly the brood would come out. Cheetor was too young. Rattrap…

Dinobot found his optics drawn towards the rodent, and something in him relaxed at the sight of that slight waist and those clever servos. He wasn’t large, or strong, but despite those drawbacks, Rattrap was **_intelligent_ ** , far more than any mech in the Maximal ranks dared to give him credit for. And that was what the raptor in Dinobot craved; raptors were not strong or overly powerful, but they were quick, and they were clever, and it took those attributes to impress them. Despite Dinobot’s protests to the contrary, impress him is exactly what Rattrap had done.

As for the size difference… It hardly mattered. Dinobot’s packmates had been smaller than him, as well, and all three had sired strong, healthy broods of sparklings. Just the very idea of Rattrap’s nimble digits running down his chassis, plucking at lines and cables and touching all the right places, was enough to--

He wasn’t going to entertain this. As a shudder ran through his spinal strut, Dinobot stood up abruptly, drawing the attention of every Maximal in the control room. He muttered some excuse before stamping off, not even bothering to check if anyone was trying to speak to him. He made his way back to his quarters, shutting and locking the door behind him. He'd have to leave that night. His frame had been denied the heat for too long and things were moving much quicker than they should as a result. He'd give the Maximals enough time to get to their own quarters, then sneak past whichever one of them had been given guard duty. It wouldn't be difficult; they were usually too tired to notice or care what was going on **_inside_ ** the ship.

In the next few hours, Dinobot sorted his things. He could only take what he could subspace; he was faster in his beast mode, which didn't lend itself to carrying anything that well. A couple of cubes, a datapad for reading -- not the one Rhinox had given him, but something from his own collection. Seven solar cycles out on his own and avoiding both Maximal and Predacon detection was going to get very boring very quickly. He contemplated the shortsword that decorated his wall, but thought better of it. He had his blaster and his optics if he needed weaponry, and his sharp denta and sickle claws if he had to resort to hunting organic prey.

Silence settled over the base like a warm blanket, and Dinobot shifted to beast mode as it did. He stalked through his door and down the halls of the ship, feathers ruffling excitedly as he neared the exit. Maybe a week on his own wouldn't be so terrible; at least it would be a reprieve from Maximal bickering. The raptor in him, at least, was anticipating the open sky and fresh air, the chance to hunt -- as disgusting as organic meat was. Dinobot might almost enjoy his little “vacation”.

He activated the door.

“Goin’ somewhere, chopperface?”

Dinobot didn't have to turn to know who it was. The blue crest of feathers on his neck and head ruffled, and the utahraptor turned, grey optics regarding the rodent in front of him. His frame felt awash with warmth -- and he near-violently pushed that part of him back. He was leaving to avoid exactly this.

“I'm taking a walk.” If his voice could be any more clipped than normal, than it was. “Is there a problem?”

Rattrap raised a brow ridge and crossed his arms over his chassis. A snort escaped him. “It’s the middle of the night, bird butt.”

“How astute.” Dinobot huffed his frustration. “I can't recharge. Some fresh air will do me good.”

“You ain't been acting right, Dinobot.”

Dinobot froze, blinking.

“‘Course, no one in this whole **_base’s_ ** been acting right, but you're the worst outta all’ve ‘em.” Rattrap’s optics narrowed. “You hiding something, chopperface? ‘Cause if you are...”

“I'm not hiding _anything!_ ” Dinobot clapped his denta together to punctuate his statement. His crest flared all the way. “And I don't need **_yet another_ ** reminder of your distrust, **_thank you._**  I'm taking a walk to clear my processor, is that a _crime?_ Am I being detained?”

Rattrap didn't apologize, nor did he seem to show remorse, but he did take a step back, holding up both servos.

“Don't let me stop ya.”

Dinobot hissed, then stomped out of the ship. The moment he touched solid ground, he sprinted into the night, thanking Primus for his beast mode’s natural speed. He could only keep up the pace for a short time, but it was enough to put some distance between him and the mech his processor kept fantasizing about.

\-----

Dinobot was a few hours into his excursion when the sun began to rise. The light filtered through the trees, dappling the forest floor in golden-pink light. There was a sense of calm and quietness; Dinobot had no mission, no battle to fight, no partner beside him. No obligations. It was only himself and this planet he and everyone else had been trapped on.

Already, he felt sluggish. The heat was beginning to settle, making his limbs heavy and weak. In the ideal circumstances, he’d be holed up for this, tended to by packmates who would bring him energon and see to his needs. Two of them would touch and kiss over his frame, teasing and so painfully sweet, while his alpha would take him by the hips and claim him for herself, not letting their packmates have their turns with him until she’d taken everything she wanted, and--

_Slag_.

His frame was too hot, too heavy. He transformed back to bot mode and flopped down, resting his spinal strut against the nearest tree. Dinobot’s optics shuddered. His chassis was heaving as his fans kicked into overdrive, desperately trying to cool his systems before he had a total meltdown.

He knew that wouldn't work. There was really only one way to help this, as undignified as doing it in the middle of the woods would be.

Without having to issue the mental command, Dinobot’s codpiece transformed back, revealing the interface panel beneath. His valve was already dripping lubricant. Dinobot reached down, barely brushing over the biolights on either side of it, and practically _mewled_ over the sensitivity of his equipment.

He started slow, gentle touches, trying to get himself used to contact once more. It wasn't until he was sure he could handle it that a digit pressed against his outer node, then _rubbed_ , and oh, **_oh_ ** , that was **_sweet_**. A shock went through his circuits, shaking and rattling his armor, and with no one around to hear him, he moaned long and low and **_loud_**.

Impatience gnawed at him. The utahraptor wriggled under his own servo as it continued to work his outer node. Already he needed **_more_** , needed the feeling of someone taking him, claiming him, **_breeding him_** …

His servo dipped downward. He slipped two digits inside -- they slid in easily, helped by lubricant and arousal -- and the calipers of his valve cycled down upon them, walls squeezing around them. Dinobot purred; it wasn't as good as the real thing, but this would do. This would certainly do.

His digits thrust within himself, slow at first, building speed. His vents came hard and fast; pleasure filled each line and circuit in his frame, for the first time in a long time, and it was almost too much for him to handle. Finally, with a cry bellowing from his throat, his calipers clapped down one last time, and he overloaded **_hard_**. Excess lubricant gushed from him, making a mess of the ground in front of him.

Dinobot shuddered and shook as he waited for the come down. He pulled his digits from himself, licked them clean, then transformed his panel back into place. The relief he felt was palpable; some of the heaviness was already gone from his limbs, though exhaustion now came over him.

The raptor groaned as he forced himself to stand. He'd find a good place to make camp and stay there for the day, stick to moving around by night. It’d be harder for Predacons to detect him that way.

As he began to move again, Dinobot swore he heard a stick snap behind him. But when he turned to look, there was no one there, and he was too tired and heat-hazy to bother investigating.

He made camp in a clearing. He had no supplies, however, and so had to resort to scratching out a circle of dirt in one corner while in raptor mode and covering it with leaves for bedding, but that was fine; he'd lived through worse conditions. Dinobot settled down and shuttered his optics after transforming back, pressing himself into the ground in an attempt to get as comfortable as possible.

Dinobot had always been terrible about recharging. Any small noise or smell or movement out of the ordinary launched him out of his slumber, and any mech who’d known him for more than a few solar cycles knew that much about him. As such, recharging in such a strange, open place was worse than the Pit for him -- it was nothing **_but_ ** strange noises and smells.

But one scent had begun to stand out within just a few cycles of attempted sleep. And this scent was _familiar,_ which made it all the more alarming.

Dinobot sat bolt upright.

“I know you're there,” he said, a growl rumbling in his throat. His feathers fluffed dangerously. “ _Rattrap!_ I know you're there!”

Dinobot was answered by a stretch of silence before the rodent finally stepped out from the trees, both servos held up in defeat. Rattrap bruxed, nervously, then offered a small smile.

“‘Ey, there, chopperface, fancy seein’ you h--”

“Why were you **_following me_** , vermin?” Dinobot’s frame sang with _need_ , now that Rattrap of all mechs was here, and that made him all the more enraged. His feathers fluffed, his plating rattled.

Rattrap held his servos even higher, taking one step back. “Hey, hey! No need t’ get aggressive, I just… I only…”

“You only **_what_** _?!_ ”

“I was **_worried_** _!_ ” Rattrap clacked his front set of denta together, almost pouring down at Dinobot. “You weren't actin’ right, and I was **_worried_** , alright? I thought maybe y’ were sick, or…”

Dinobot all but deflated, turning his optics away and clicking his own sharpened denta. He'd been under the impression Rattrap hated him, but had that been the case, it wouldn't make sense for the rodent to show _concern_ \-- unless this was some sort of Maximal ploy. Something bubbled within Dinobot, and he swallowed back a curse.

“I am not sick. Just… In heat.”

Rattrap looked away, equally embarrassed. “Yeah, I realized that.”

Dinobot’s tanks rolled, and he gritted his denta, avoiding looking at Rattrap. He didn’t bother asking how much the rodent had seen; he could tell by the tone of his voice.

“Go back to base, Rattrap. This doesn’t concern you. Tell the Maximals you couldn’t find me. I’ll be back in a few solar cycles.”

“Are you kiddin’ me?” Rattrap snorted. “You think I’m leavin’ you out here **_alone_** _?_ ”

“It is not safe for you to be around me!” Dinobot snapped his denta together for punctuation. “Mechs do stupid things around brooders in heat, I don’t want you subjecting yourself to that sort of embarrassment.” And he didn’t want himself falling victim to the heat -- it had chosen Rattrap for him, it seemed, and Dinobot was sure the rodent feel the same, not truly.

“That ain’t gonna be a problem, chopperface.”

Rattrap walked towards him, then sat next to him on his makeshift resting spot, and Dinobot recoiled. Each fiber and circuit of him cried out at the proximity, begging him to move closer, to touch and be touched. Dinobot let out a feverish whimper, lying back down and pressing into the dirt and grass and leaves.

Then he glanced up at Rattrap, regarding him with crimson optics. Something had just clicked with him.

“You’re the only one that hasn’t been affected by this,” Dinobot said, his helm tilting. “Everyone else may not have known what was happening either, but they had a reaction. You didn’t. Why?”

Rattrap blinked, then snorted, looking away. “That’s what all that slag they were doin’ was, then? The gifts Rhinox gave you? That explains a **_lot_**.”

“You’re avoiding the question.”

Rattrap rolled his optics. “I don’t **_know_** , alright? Maybe it just don’t work on me.”

Dinobot narrowed his optics, giving a short, quiet snarl of disbelief. Then he wriggled close, almost on autopilot, finally moving to rest his helm in Rattrap’s lap. Whatever the case, at least it gave him some peace of mind. At least Rattrap might not lose himself around him.

Rattrap reached down, unperturbed by the contact. His small digits found Dinobot’s backstrut and rubbed there. Dinobot mewled contentedly, optics shuttering.

“ _Really?_ ” Rattrap giggled.

“Shut up. You don’t know what this feels like.”

Rattrap scritched the raptor’s neck cabling. “Get some rest, idiot. I’ll keep watch until y’ wake.”

Though Dinobot’s frame was still filled with _want_ , he was more than happy to comply. He was tired after a long night’s journey, especially with the heat hitting him so hard. He’d rest, and then they could move again in the evening. Somehow, having his usual partner by his side was _appealing_ , now, rather than something he needed a vacation from.

He hadn’t realized that he’d missed him.

Dinobot settled, and slowly, with a purr, he fell into recharge.

\-----

Dinobot woke just as the sun was beginning to set, the forest now colored with reds and golds and purples. He gave a gentle chirr, blinking back recharge and taking in his surroundings. He’d recharged, perhaps, deeper than he ever had on this planet; probably due to knowing he had someone he trusted watching over him. Rattrap had disappeared from view, however, and Dinobot chuffed in confusion, pushing himself up.

He focused, for a moment, taking in sights and smells, and then he heard it: a soft, quiet noise, metal on metal, the gentlest gasps and whimpers following it. Dinobot blinked and stepped towards it, following his audials.

Just behind the tree line, right out of line of sight, was Rattrap. He was in a similar position to Dinobot’s just that morning: back against a tree, optics shuttered, legs spread, his fist curled around his spike and pumping **_fast_**. Dinobot knew he should feel embarrassed, that he should turn back from the spectacle -- or, rather, the **_logical_ ** part of him knew that. The part affected by the monstrosity called heat, addled by the haze and the feverish warmth… That part was rather enjoying the show the little rodent was putting on for it, and that part felt a smug satisfaction in knowing it really **_was_ ** having an effect on him.

Dinobot was silent as he walked forwards, as he knelt down beside Rattrap, even as his own servo took Rattrap’s spike and began to pump. He heard Rattrap gasp and felt him stiffen, but he paid him no heed; Dinobot just leaned in close, lip plates finding the rodent’s neck and beginning to kiss and suck. Rattrap whined, pressing close.

“Y’ know… Y’ know you ain’t gonna want any of this when your heat’s over. You know that.”

Dinobot paused, pulling back just enough to look Rattrap in the optics. He regarded him closely, pushing back the heat-haze to think clearly. But… No, he realized. No, this wasn’t just the heat. As annoyed as he could get, as frustrated as Rattrap could make him, something in his spark softened when he looked at him. Even when they bickered, he felt comforted, felt drawn to him. Rattrap was the one his spark sang for -- not just his heat.

Dinobot shook his helm, gently butting it against Rattrap’s own.

“When did I say that?”

Rattrap blinked in surprise, staring up at him. And then he yanked him close, pressing their lip plates together in a deep, delectable kiss. Dinobot moaned into his mouth, nipping at his lower lip and purring deep in his chassis. His servo went back to its work, his thumb digit flicking over the head of Rattrap’s spike as his palm pumped up and down.

Dinobot pulled out of the kiss to trail his lip plates down Rattrap’s chassis and torso, making his way down until he could nip lightly but firmly at the rodent’s thighs. Rattrap whined and arched against his denta, making Dinobot smirk.

“Those noises and faces you make,” Dinobot murmured, nipping Rattap’s thigh again, “are absolutely _delicious_.”

Rattrap bit his lower lip plate with his buck front teeth. “Sh-shut up, y’ slag-sucking saurian.”

Dinobot raised an optic ridge. “Slag-sucking?” He leaned close to Rattrap’s spike, close enough for the rodent to feel each of Dinobot’s ex-vents on it. “Do you really want to call me names, when you're in such a compromising position?”

Rattrap hissed, then grabbed Dinobot’s helm. “Stop **_teasin’ me_ ** and **_do it already_**.”

The forcefulness made something in Dinobot click. Dinobot gave a whimper of his own as his interface panel transformed back, shuddered as the air hit his valve. And without being asked twice, he took Rattrap’s spike into his warm, wet mouth, careful not to scrape it with his denta.

Rattrap **_moaned_**. Dinobot moaned in turn, the noise muffled and vibrating around Rattrap’s equipment. He took him all the way in, until his lips were flush with Rattrap’s pelvic plating -- with their size difference, it wasn't difficult -- then he began to bob, hollowing his cheeks and running his glossa along Rattrap’s length.

Rattrap tasted sweet, _so_ sweet, and each whimper and wriggle he gave had Dinobot’s lines pulsing with heat and fire. Dinobot’s valve felt so _neglected_ , he just had to reach back and touch it…

Rattrap grabbed his wrist. “Uh-ah. Don't you dare, chopperface.”

Dinobot growled around him, turning his optics upwards to glare up at him.

Rattrap clicked his denta together. “I want that for myself.”

Dinobot blinked, and then he was being pulled off of Rattrap by his helm, then pushed back, onto the ground. He stared, stunned, as Rattrap moved over him.

Rattrap made a circular motion with his index digit. “Roll over.”

Dinobot couldn't help but obey. He shuddered as he rolled onto his chassis, lifting his aft just so to press it against Rattrap’s pelvis, searching, wanting. The calipers of his valve cycled down on nothing, over and over, desperate to have something to fill him once again. Rattrap, however, was determined to tease; he rubbed his spike over Dinobot’s lips, the head of it barely pressing over his exterior node. His clever digits slipped between the armor seams on the raptor’s hips, found the wires there and began to stroke them. Dinobot all but cried out at the torture of it all.

“Rattrap, Rattrap, **_please_** , Rattrap--”

“Please what?” Rattrap clicked his denta together again. “Use your words.”

Dinobot **_snarled_** , pressing his faceplate into the dirt. “Rattrap, I **_want_ ** you. Rattrap, **_I need you_**.”

“But y’ got me right here.” Rattrap plucked a wire, causing Dinobot to cry out and arch his hips. “What do y’ mean, y’ **_need_ ** me?”

“I need you… I need you to take me. Fill me. **_Breed me_**. Please, **_please_ ** ...” Dinobot had never felt so _undone_.

But he'd said the magic words, it seemed. Rattrap slipped inside without resistance, and Dinobot's valve adjusted to accommodate the difference in size. Dinobot **_shrieked_ ** his pleasure. His claws scrabbled in the dirt as Rattrap gripped his hips and pounded into him, leaning over him and moaning in his own, higher-pitched tones.

Dinobot’s frame felt like it was on fire, but rather than torturous, now, it was nothing but pure relief. He pressed back into each thrust of Rattrap’s hips, returning them in kind. His calipers rolled and massaged all of the rodent’s length, trying to pull him deeper inside. Dinobot was practically gushing lubricants, making a mess of himself and his partner, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He was sure Rattrap didn't mind.

Rattrap reached underneath Dinobot, digits finding his external node and starting to rub, and that was what drove Dinobot over the edge. He overloaded, **_hard_** , crying out Rattrap’s name as he did.

Rattrap bruxed his denta, chuckling softly -- he wasn't done, not yet. As soon as Dinobot had come down from the high, Rattrap’s thrusts slowed from hard and fast to deep and rolling, each one more drawn out than the last.

Dinobot was practically shaking.

“I like seein’ you all unwound like this, chopperface,” Rattrap purred. “You're always so withdrawn n’ _composed_. Look at you now. Y’ like this, hmm?”

Dinobot whined. He didn't think anyone had dirty talked to him in centuries.

Rattrap smacked his aft, making Dinobot yelp, then **_moan_**. “I asked you a **_question_** , Dinobot. You like this?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Dinobot whined, valve clenching down again as Rattrap gave a particularly deep thrust.

“Tell me how much you like it.”

Dinobot’s processor, normally so eloquent, searched for words and came up blank. His claws dug into the dirt, and he let out a frustrated snarl, mouth opening and closing but no words coming out. Rattrap snorted, slowing his thrusts to a stop.

“Well, then, if y’ can’t tell me, no need t’ keep goin’, I suppose…”

“No, no, _please!_ ” Dinobot cried. He wriggled his hips, trying to get the friction back. “I… I… Primus, _Primus_ , I **_love_ ** it, Rattrap, I **_need_ ** it, I need **_you_** , I…” He panted incoherently. “Rattrap, Rattrap, you’re so **_good_** …”

“That’s what I like t’ hear.”

Rattrap grabbed him by the hips, slamming into him once more to Dinobot’s squeals and rumbles of delight. It was only a few more thrusts before the rodent gave a particularly loud groan, than overloaded, transfluid spilling into Dinobot’s waiting valve. After allowing himself to come down, he pulled from Dinobot, spent -- but Dinobot wriggled and hissed at the unfairness of it. Rattrap had worked him up again, and he hadn’t gotten his climax.

Rattrap only needed to give him a light push to get him back on his back.

“Poor Dinobot,” Rattrap said, clicking his teeth in a _tut, tut._ The rodent resting his servos on Dinobot’s thick thighs, leaning down to kiss at the protoflesh around his valve. “You ain’t quite done, are ya, chopperface?”

Dinobot shuddered, optics shuttering. His hips raised in a silent plea for release. He was too worked up, the heat too overpowering, to manage anything more coherent than that.

“Thought not.”

Rattrap buried his face in Dinobot’s valve, glossa lapping at his folds like he was the best meal the rodent had ever tasted. He put his lip plates around Dinobot’s external node and licked and suckled there, sending a jolt of static through the raptor’s lines. Dinobot gasped and hissed, backstrut curving with each and every stroke of Rattrap’s glossa.

Rattrap was slow, deliberate -- he wasn’t just pleasing Dinobot, but praising his existence with his glossa. Everything about the display, the wetness of Rattrap’s mouth on Dinobot’s dripping valve, the _slrrp_ of glossa on protoflesh, the expression on Rattrap’s face, was lewder than anything Dinobot had seen in a very long time. Electricity crackled over his frame, and with a buck and a whine, he hit his second overload of the night, his optics seeing stars as pleasure filled every circuit and fiber of his being.

\-----

Ten solar cycles later, back at the Maximal ship, Dinobot was finally beginning to get back into the swing of everyday duties. Everyone had returned to their normal state: Cheetor no longer followed his every step, Silverbolt had stopped attempting to take his shifts, and Rhinox had even asked for one of his plants back to use as a sample. Dinobot could relax in all but one sense.

Every time he and Rattrap passed in the halls, they shared a knowing look. Miraculously, no one else had caught on to what had happened, but the both of them knew, and the both of them knew the other knew. Dinobot couldn’t be suspicious, but he couldn’t take it one more night, so he waited until most of the base had gone to berth again before knocking on Rattrap’s berthroom door.

“Come in.”

Rattrap’s room was the same dimensions as Dinobot’s own, but the clutter of it made it seem much more crowded and cramped. Instead of a proper berth slab, a hammock made of what looked to be plush, soft materials hung in one corner, blankets and thermals piled upon it in a haphazard nest on top of which Rattrap lay. In the other corner, a workbench, tools and half-made explosives strewn across it. The rest of the floor was covered in storage boxes, some singular, some in piles, all random in where they were placed. It was like stepping across a minefield.

Dinobot curled his lip plates in disdain, causing Rattrap to chuckle.

“Something wrong with my decoratin’, chopperface?” Rattrap asked, rolling so he could rest his elbow on the edge of his hammock, then his chin on his servo.

“No,” Dinobot answered too quickly, a rumbling snort escaping his maw. “I’m just trying to discern how one’s meant to find anything in this chaos. Or how you got permission from Primal to clear out our storage bay to decorate yours.”

“I know my own organization. And I only got the stuff I need.” Rattrap grinned, exposing his buck teeth, but frowned after a short moment. “How’d everything…?”

“All the eggs passed. Duds.” Dinobot’s feathers ruffled. “You’re not going to be a sire any time soon, Rattrap.”

Rattrap’s olfactory twitched, and Dinobot could almost swear he looked just a tad _disappointed_ by the news. “Good. Don’t wanna curse any sparklings with looks like yours.”

Dinobot rolled his optics -- but his voice, and optics, softened when he looked at Rattrap’s face. “Little ones wouldn’t fare well in warzones, regardless.”

Rattrap nodded. They watched each other in silence until Dinobot brought himself to break it.

“Rattrap, I wanted you to know--”

“Yeah?” Rattrap perked up, olfactory twitching again.

Another silence, then Dinobot crossed the room in three quick strides, bending down to catch Rattrap’s lip plates with his own. Rattrap made a low, pleased noise against Dinobot’s mouth, and Dinobot rumbled and purred, his clawed digits framing the rodent’s face.

Rattrap pulled away, just enough to whisper against Dinobot’s lip plates, “I know. I know.”

No more needed to be said.

**Author's Note:**

>  **brux/bruxing** : soft, repetitive grinding of the incisors against each other that makes a soft chittering or chattering sound. rats use this to signal that they're relaxed, happy, excited, or nervous.


End file.
